Masked
by Meg Rider
Summary: After the castle is invaded, Adam orders his head guard, Sandor Clegane, to take Belle to safety until Adam comes to find her. Sandor takes Belle to the opera house where a woman he knows works. Belle becomes a chorus girl while Sandor remains hidden to watch over her. It isn't long until rumors spread of the scarred man who hides in the shadows of the opera house.
1. Chapter 1

_Gaston struggled to keep his balance. Thrashing his arms, he desperately reached out for something- anything- to grab onto. Belle only had a moment to react and her instinct was to save the Beast. Gaston fell from the castle roof, letting out a blood-curdling scream. As he fell, Bell saw an image of skulls flash in his fearful blue eyes. A second later, a sickening crack filled the air as Gaston hit the ground below. Belle looked down and saw she was completely covered in blood and Gaston's mangled, unrecognizable corpse was lying at her feet._

Belle woke with a jolt. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as if it, too, were trying to escape the nightmare. She's had the same nightmare every night for the last year; since the night Gaston died. It had been his own fault, of course. He instigated the fight against the Beast and then stabbed him. Still, Belle couldn't shake her guilt.

Maybe she could have saved him, too. Gaston had been rude and conceited, but he didn't deserve to die. Especially like that. The truth was, the more Belle thought about it, the more she couldn't blame Gaston for the way he had reacted towards the Beast. When Belle first met the Beast, she feared and hated him, the same as Gaston. She never wanted to kill him. But, Gaston was a hunter and his instincts were different than hers. When a hunter sees a Beast, his first thought is to kill it. Gaston could not have known the Beast was really a person under a curse. Gaston was many awful things, but a murderer was not one of them.

Of course, if Belle had to go back and choose to save only the Beast or Gaston, she would choose the Beast every time. That only added to her guilt. Despite his selfish tendencies, Gaston had been loved and adored by everyone in the village. His death was one of the greatest tragedies to ever befall the small village. It was a loss everyone felt, even a year later.

Belle rolled over and reached for Adam, but his side of the bed was empty. The sheets were cold and undisturbed, so she knew Adam hadn't been to bed, yet. Knowing she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, Belle got out of bed. She pulled on her robe, tying it tightly around her as she stuck her feet in her slippers.

She stepped out of the room, expecting to see her regular guard standing in the hallway, but he wasn't there. Instead, another guard sat in a chair beside the door, asleep. She tiptoed around him and headed down the hall.

The castle was silent and there was a chill in the still air. Belle wrapped her arms around herself. A clock in a nearby room chimed. It was five o'clock in the morning. Some of the servants would be waking up soon to start their daily chores.

Belle stopped outside of the west wing doors. Despite the renovations to the rest of the castle since the curse was lifted, the west wing still remained exactly how it had been during the curse. During the last year, Adam had been working hard to reunite with his former allies and traders. He traveled a lot and Belle rarely saw him. When he was at the castle, he locked himself in the west wing and demanded that no one enter so he could get his work done without any disturbances.

Belle opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Adam was seated at his desk, writing furiously onto a piece of parchment. The large glass doors leading out to the balcony were closed and frosted, but Belle could see it was snowing.

"Adam?"

Adam didn't look up. "What is it, Belle?"

"It's five o'clock in the morning."

Now Adam stopped writing and looked at her. "Is it?" He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "How did the night get away from me?"

"You're working yourself too hard," Belle said, quietly.

Adam dropped his pen on his desk and ran his hand over his face. "I know. But, there's so much to do."

"Come to bed, Adam. Try to get a little sleep."

Adam shook his head. "I have to finish this."

Belle didn't know what Adam was working on. She actually knew nothing about the responsibilities and duties of royalty, seeing as she was not a royal. She and Adam planned to marry, but he had been so busy and rarely at home, that they hadn't had a chance, yet. Though Adam was now a king, Belle still had no title; she was nothing more than a commoner, an inventor's daughter. If they had married, she'd be queen now, and maybe she could help Adam. However, every time Belle mentioned this, Adam told her he had everything under control and she didn't have to worry about anything.

Belle nodded. "Very well. Will I see you at breakfast?"

"Yes. I should be done by then."

Belle smiled at him. "I look forward to it."

Adam smiled and shook his head as he picked up his pen. "It's just breakfast, Belle."

To him it was just breakfast, but Belle couldn't remember the last time they ate together. Perhaps the night the curse was lifted? This filled Belle with some excitement. When Adam said he would be somewhere, he would be there. He was a man of his word.

xxx

An hour after breakfast had been served, Adam's breakfast sat in front of the empty chair at the other end of the table, untouched. Belle had eaten some of her fruit while she waited, but the rest of her breakfast had gotten cold.

A young servant girl came into the dining room to clear the dishes and was surprised to see them still filled with food. "The food must be cold by now," she told Belle. "Would you like me to have the cook make two fresh plates?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, please."

The girl cleared the plates quickly and left the room. It didn't take long for her to return with two plates of hot food. She set one plate in front of Belle.

"Would you like me to bring the king his food?" the servant girl asked.

Belle shook her head. "Leave it here." She motioned at the seat to her left. The girl set down the plate and left again.

Once the girl was gone, Belle turned around in her seat. Her regular guard, Sandor Clegane, stood still in the corner. He was a tall man, the tallest Belle had ever seen. He was at least 6'6" and muscular. He was known as one of most skilled and dangerous fighters in Europe. Everyone who saw him was afraid of him; not just because of his reputation, but also his appearance. In addition to his height and muscles, the entire right side of his face was covered in scars. He wore his hair longer in attempt to hide the scars, but they were so prominent, that it didn't help much. Still, despite his intimidating and scarred appearance, Belle had never been afraid of him. After seeing Adam as a Beast, scars and deformities of regular men did not faze Belle. In fact, Belle found Sandor to be quite handsome in spite of everything.

"Sandor? Join me for breakfast?"

"It's not my place, princess."

Belle raised an eyebrow at him. "Sandor, you and I both know I'm not a princess. I'm not even a lady. I'm the same as you. You can eat breakfast with me." Still, Sandor didn't move. "Please? I hate to eat alone."

Sandor hesitated, but gave in. He moved the chair slightly away from Belle before sitting down. He ate with no regard to etiquette. Much like the Adam had when he was the Beast. This didn't surprise Belle. Sandor had crude behavior in general, so she hadn't expected him to eat with manners.

Sometimes Adam called Sandor "dog" because of his lack of manners. Though he- and the servants- mostly referred to him as the Hound. The nickname came from the hounds on his family's sigil and from Sandor's loyalty. Though the nickname was not meant to be degrading, Belle did not like to refer to him as the Hound.

Screams from down the hall startled both of them. Sandor was on his feet in an instant. Shouts and clanging metal came from somewhere in the castle and grew steadily louder. Adam and a couple of men from his army burst into the dining room. Adam closed and locked the door behind them.

"What's happening?" Belle asked him.

"Soldiers have invaded the castle."


	2. Chapter 2

Men banged against the door, trying to break it down.

Adam and his men drew their swords. "Hound! Get Belle out of the castle. Take her somewhere safe."

Before Belle could object, Sandor seized her around the waist and half carried, half dragged her out of the dining room and into the kitchen. There was a small passageway for the servants hidden in the wall near the pantry. Sandor opened it and shoved Belle in a head of him. He closed the door behind them, enveloping them in darkness. It was a tight fit for Sandor in the passage. His armor scraped against the walls as he walked and he had to duck down to avoid hitting his head against the ceiling.

When they reached the door at the end of the passage, Sandor stopped Belle. They listened for any noise coming from the other side that would suggest there were soldiers outside. When they were met with silence, he pushed open the door. Biting wind blew snow against them, stinging Belle's face. The bottom of her dress was soaked through the moment they stepped outside. It had been snowing since dinner the night before and was now shin-deep and still falling.

The passageway led out to the stables, where a lone stable boy was currently attaching a saddle to the general's horse. Word must have reached him about the attack.

"Good morning, my lady," the boy greeted.

Sandor pushed past the boy to where his black horse, Stranger, stood in a pen near the back of the stables. Sandor unlocked the pen and led Stranger outside by his reins.

"Get on," Sandor instructed Belle.

A thick wool blanket was draped over Stranger, but no saddle. Belle had never ridden a horse without a saddle, let alone one as large as Stranger.

Sandor was visibly annoyed by her hesitation. "For fuck's sake, Princess; we don't have time for this. Get on the horse."

Belle's eyes widened in shock at his coarse language, but she obeyed. She approached Stranger, but as she went put her hand on the horse to hoist herself onto his back, he snapped at her, almost biting her hand. Belle stumbled back. Sandor gently ran his hand over Strangers face, calming him down. When the horse was calm, Sandor helped Belle onto his back before mounting the beast himself.

Sandor drew his sword and placed his hand over Belle's mouth. Before Belle could react to his inappropriate behavior, Sandor cut off the stable boy's head as they rode past him. Belle's scream was muffled by Sandor's hand.

"We can't have anyone seeing where we're going," Sandor told her, sheathing his sword. "That boy would squeal like a stuck pig under torture."

Sandor put his arms on either side of Belle as he took the reins, to make sure she didn't fall off the horse. The cold from his metal armor seeped through her thin sleeves, chilling her. They rode fast, the wind slicing through them. Belle rode side-saddle and did her best to keep her head turned away to protect her face. Sandor snapped the reins and they sped faster into the morning.

xxx

They rode a few miles before Sandor stopped to let Stranger rest. There was no sign of anyone following them, but the air was still thick with tension of being found by one of the men who attacked the castle.

Sandor helped Belle down from the horse. She shivered as her feet and part of her legs sank into the snow. Sandor removed the cape from his armor and wrapped it around her. She was grateful for the warmth, but before she could thank him, he walked away. She didn't know where he was going, but she didn't follow after him. Even though she knew it was his duty to protect her, all she could see was him decapitating that innocent stable boy. It was a brutal reminder of just how dangerous Sandor Clegane really was.

When Sandor returned, he had his sworn drawn. The stable boy's blood had dried on the blade. Belle's stomach churned at the sight and she had to look away.

"Someone's coming," Sandor told her. "Keep your head down so they don't see your face."

Belle pulled the cape up over her head to hide her face and pulled it closed around her to keep her dress hidden. A carriage came to a stop behind them and a man stepped out of it. Belle lowered her head.

"Is everything all right?" the man asked. "Is there trouble with your horse?"

"He's fine," Sandor replied. There was a slight growl to his voice and Belle couldn't help picturing him killing this man in the same way he killed the stable boy.

" _We can't have anyone seeing where we're going."_ That was how Sandor justified the murder of the boy.

"We're just stopping for a rest," Sandor continued.

"Better keep moving," the man said. "There's a blizzard coming. If you don't get to a shelter before the storm, you'll freeze to death."

"We're not far from where we're going," Sandor told him.

"Would you like a ride? The carriage isn't much, but it'll get you out of the cold. Your wife is shivering so hard I can hear her teeth chattering from here. Of course, we can't take your horse, but-"

"We don't need a ride," Sandor interrupted. "Now, I suggest _you_ keeping moving."

Belle risked a glance at the man. He was an older man with gray hair and a coarse beard. He wore a wool coat with a hole where a pocket might have been. He now eyed Sandor suspiciously. He recognized the threat in Sandor's words, just as Belle had. He seemed to notice Sandor's drawn sword for the first time.

Sandor sheathed the sword and took a step back. "As you said, there's a storm coming. You don't want to be stuck out here."

"I suppose not," the man said slowly. He walked backwards to his carriage, not taking his eyes off Sandor. Once he was safely inside, the carriage sped past them, spraying snow on Sandor and Belle's legs.

"I thought you were going to kill him," Belle whispered when the carriage was no longer in sight.

Sandor didn't say anything. He busied himself with checking on Stranger. His silence was enough to convince Belle he probably would have killed that man. The thought of how close she came to seeing another man die made her sick. She needed to think of something else.

"Are we really close to where you're taking me?" Belle asked. Though she liked the idea of getting out of the cold, she couldn't help wondering how safe this place could be with it only being a couple miles from the castle.

"We're not far from where we're stopping for the day to get out of the storm."

Belle nodded. After making sure Stranger could continue on the journey, Sandor helped Belle back onto the horse and they started down the road. The snow and wind had picked up significantly since they left the castle and Belle was glad to have Sandor's cape to keep her warm. It did little to make her feel safe, though. She knew Sandor would protect her from anyone who would want to harm her, but he was just one man; what chance did he have against the army sent after her and Adam?


	3. Chapter 3

Belle and Sandor had to cross through the small village where Belle and her father had lived. She hadn't been there since some of the villagers attacked the castle. Not because she hadn't wanted to see them after what they had done, but rather the opposite. After she had let Gaston die, they turned against her and her father. Gaston had been their hero and he was dead because of her. She had been unwelcome in the village after that.

As they made their way through town, Belle kept her head down and Sandor's cape pulled over her face. If the men who attacked the castle this morning came here looking for her, any one of the villagers would happily point them in the direction of where Belle was heading.

As they neared the house where Belle lived, she stole a quick glance. It didn't appear that anyone was living there now. Though she couldn't see behind the house, she pictured the large backyard and the river that flowed between the mountains. Her mother was buried under one of the tree beside that river. Because Belle and her father were all but banned from returning to the village after Gaston's death, they were forced to leave Belle's mother behind. All her father had wanted was to be buried next to her when it was time. When he grew ill and died just a couple months after moving into the castle, Belle had no choice but to bury him with Adam's family. It broke Belle's heart that her parents could not lay in rest together.

A tear prickled at the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped the wetness from her face and looked away from the house. It would do no good for her to cry for memories. She was in real danger and needed to keep a clear head.

Once they were out of the village, they rode only a couple miles before coming to a house. It was a simple two-story house that was only a little smaller than her village house had been. Behind the house was a large barn, almost the same size as the house. Just beyond the barn was a forest and the mountains. There was nothing else around the house, it looked almost abandoned.

This is where they stopped. Sandor got down from the horse and then helped Belle down. She wasn't sure how she felt about camping out in an abandoned house during a blizzard. What would they do for food?

Sandor led Belle to the front door. But, before she could voice her concerns, Sandor took out a key and unlocked the door.

"Is this your house?" Belle asked.

"Yes." He closed the door behind them. "You can take my room. It's just upstairs. I'm going to get Stranger set up in the barn and bring in some wood for the fire." With that, he went back outside, leaving Belle alone.

She found a candle and matches on a small table beside the door. She lit the candle, all at once thinking of Lumiere and all of her other friends in the castle. Had they made it out? Were they fighting the men along with Adam and his soldiers? And what of Mrs. Potts and Chip? Surely, they weren't fighting. Had they escaped? How long would she have to wait before she received word from the castle? Too long, she suspected, since no one knew where Sandor was taking her. How would Adam find her when it was safe to return home?

Belle tried to force her worry to the side as she climbed the stairs. Worrying wouldn't help anyone. She needed to trust that Adam and the soldiers will be victorious and everything would be all right. She'd go mad if she spent all of this time worrying and imagining the worst.

Sandor's bedroom was at the top of the stairs. It was a decent-sized room with a large canopy bed on one side. Another set of armor was on a stand in the opposite corner, next to a wooden wardrobe. A wash basin with no mirror was on the other side of the wardrobe. Belle noticed there was no fireplace in the room and she wondered how he kept warm during winter nights.

Belle used the basin to clean her hands and face before wrapping the cape around herself once more and going back down stairs. Sandor had come back inside and had put wood in the living room fireplace, but did not light it. Sandor was standing on the opposite side of the room from the fireplace, removing his armor. She caught glimpse of the scars on his face and remembered what Adam had told her about his history with fire.

When Sandor was a child, he had been playing with one his older brother, Gregor's, toys. Gregor had not been happy about that and punished Sandor by holding his head in a burning brazier. Adam said Sandor was afraid of fire, but Belle had a hard time believing anything scared him. Still, she noticed the way he avoided the fireplace now and remembered the lack of fireplace in his room.

Belle lit the fireplace herself, then sat in front of it, grateful to finally have some warmth.

xxx

Neither of them said anything to each other for more than an hour. Belle eventually grew hungry. She wasn't sure how far Sandor's fear of fire went and if it meant he never cooked anything that required heat. She didn't want to ask, so she offered to cook. She made a stew with what little food she found.

The snow and wind had picked up significantly by the time they sat down to eat. He thanked her and complimented her cooking, but for the rest of the meal, the howling wind was the only sound between them.

After Sandor helped her clean up the dishes, Belle went back up to his room to clean up. Afterwards, she took the liberty to look around his room. There wasn't much as far as belongings and there were no decorations. Belle wondered if he preferred to live simply or if he lacked personal belongings because he spent more time at the castle than at home.

When Belle went back downstairs, she found Sandor sitting at the table, cleaning his sword. He didn't acknowledge her presence, so she returned to the living room to sit by the fire. It'd be a long night without conversation or something to do. Her mind wandered to Adam and her friends, but thoughts of them only made her sad. She tried to think of something else- anything else- but failed. She had no way of knowing if they were all right, or alive even.

"Here."

Belle looked up at Sandor who was now standing behind the couch. He was holding a book out to her.

"You'll go mad from boredom without something to do."

Belle smiled at him as she took the book. "Thank you. I do love to read."

"I know." He turned away from her and went back to the table to clean his sword.

Belle looked over the book. It was a rare type of book that Belle had never before read where the whole book is told from the point of view of the villain instead of the hero. It was dark and violent, yet still intriguing.

Belle was lost in the book and didn't notice when sleep finally came for her. She dreamed of a scarred, violent man standing in the snow fighting faceless men before turning on her and running his sword through her heart.

She woke with a jolt, knocking the book on the floor. The fire had gone out and Sandor was sitting in the chair next to the couch. He looked as if he had just been roused from sleep, as well, and he had a dagger drawn.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You screamed."

Belle blushed. "I'm all right. It was just a nightmare. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you."

The wind was howling viciously outside. The sound made the house seem even colder. She wanted to relight the fire, but at the same time she didn't want to force Sandor to leave. There was thick wool blanket draped over her and she pulled it tightly around her. She didn't remember having the blanket when she was reading and realized Sandor must have put it on her after she fell asleep.

"Thank you for the blanket."

"You're welcome." Sandor leaned back in his chair. "Who is Gaston?"

Belle sat up and looked at him. "Why do you ask?"

"When I was putting the blanket on you, you were saying his name."

Belle frowned as she realized the scarred man from her dream had been Gaston. The scars had been from his fall. He was fighting the soldiers from the castle to get to her for revenge. When he killed her that was when she woke up.

A taunting smiled crossed Sandor's face. "Is he the man who keeps you company when the prince is away?"

Belle glared at him. "Of course not. I have always been faithful to Adam."

Sandor shrugged. "What you do is your business, Princess. Makes no difference to me."

"Not that I owe you any sort of explanation, but Gaston was a man from my village. He tried to kill Adam. They fought on the roof of the castle and after Gaston stabbed him, they both started to fall. I could only save one of them…"

"And you chose the prince."

Belle nodded. "Gaston died and I've been having nightmares about him ever since."

"You didn't kill him, Princess."

"I let him die. It's the same as killing him."

Sandor gave her an amused look. "I've killed a lot of men, Princess. And I can tell you, what you did is nowhere near the same."

Belle shifted uncomfortably on the couch, instinctively moving away from him. Sandor noticed this and leaned closer to her. She became suddenly aware that he was still holding the dagger. He was a killer. It was easy to forget that as they sat here alone, with him acting as her protector. He was right that what she did to Gaston was not the same as decapitating an innocent stable boy, but it didn't change the fact that Gaston was dead because of her.

"Are you afraid of me, Princess?"

Belle met his dark eyes. "No."

"And why not? You should be. I've killed more men than you've met in your entire lifetime. So, why is it that you don't look at me with fear like everyone else?"

"You've never been violent towards me, Sandor Clegane. You haven't given me a reason to fear you."

Sandor gave her a wary look. Belle could tell he was not used to being around someone who was not afraid of him. She didn't know if that was what he wanted, though. Did he want to be feared? Or did he want, for once, not to be seen as some sort of monster?

Or beast.

"You're afraid of fire, right?" Belle asked. "Because it hurt you." Sandor didn't say anything, but he nodded once. "If you never hurt me, I'll never be afraid of you. You'll never be my fire."


End file.
